A TREATISE OF THE SPORTS OF WIT.  Omne tulit punctam quae miscuit utile dulci. Hor. 
Printed for the Author, 1675.  
Inquire for them at Simon Neals, at the Three Pigeons in Bedfordstreet in Covent-Garden.   

The Epistle Dedicatory.  
To all our Fair and Virtuous Ladies.  
Ladies,  
I Present you here (as most resembling them) the Sports and Recreations of these great Ladies, who have so sublimed them by a Divine quality they have to convert all into Virtue, as Midas did all he touched to Gold; whence their very Sports are as virtuous as others devotions: Those melancholy Spirits than enemies of all cheerfulness, who call such Sports as these, but idle things, seem wholly ignorant of their first institution, and very signification of their names. For wherefore were they called Relaxations, Divertisements, and Recreations, but for relaxing our over bended thoughts, diverting our minds from cares and troubles of this life, and recreating our Spirits when tired and spent with Worldly businesses. Whence to conclude, whoever in this mortal life can live without them, must either be a God, or else a Beast, above, or else below Humanity.  
And so much for their Sports; as for the Ladies themselves, I suppose they are so well known to all, as I need, in this Epistle, to say no more of them; but that they had always a high esteem for our English Ladies; and therefore, I doubt not, but you will have the like of them. Be pleased then Ladies, for their sakes, to accept a Dedication of this short Treatise, from him who is naturally an enemy of all that is long and tedious, a friend to these Sports and Recreations, an honourer and admirer of all your Nobler Sex, especially of all Fair and Virtuous Ladies like yourselves.  
R. Flecknoe.   

The Preface to the Reader:  
Of Wit, in order to these Sports.  
IT is as hard to describe Wit in particular, as it is our Taste, they so vary with Time and Custom; the wit of our Ancestors being grosser than that we have now: And as the Age refines, so do the Wits of Men. However, this we will say of it in general, Wit to the subject it treats of, is, as the Soul to the Body, animating it with Life and Spirit, which else were but dead and dull; it is the quintessence of Conceit, extracted out of Words and Matter, as the Bee extracts Honey out of Flowers; and as out of dull Flint we strike sparks of Fire, so out of dull Matter we strike sparks of Wit. It is not so solid as Wisdom, but the less solid, the more Spiritual; and is so volatile, as it easily evaporates; but fixed by Judgement, and with a lay of Discretion, it surpasses bare Wisdom, as far as that doth Folly; and is in the Brain as Nobility is in the Blood; only one fault it hath, it is more pleasant to others, then profitable to its self; wherein it differs from Worldly Wisdom; but that wherein it differs from Divine, is its greatest Fault; Wit now being but a new name for an Atheist and Debauchée; but that is the fault of the Persons not of▪ Wit; for Wit is no ways scurrilous and profane. But finally, we may say of it, as the corruption of the best is the worst; so when good, nothing better; when bad, nothing worse. And so much for Wit, as it differences these Sports, from the old homely ones of Substantives and Adjectives, Questions and Commands, Cross Purposes, and the like; as much out of date, as the last years Almanacs, and scarcely deserving so much as the name of Wit.   


The Occasion of Writing this TREATISE.  
THe Duchess of Lorraine, with the Princess and Madamoseille De Beauvois, her Highness' Sister (now Princess of Ar●mberg) retiring themselves to B●rs●ll, near Brussels, in the Spring time of the year fifty; where they passed their time in all sorts of innocent and delightful Divertisements, and amongst the rest, that of the Sports of Wit, being after Supper their ordinary entertainment: At which, both they and the Ladies of her Highness' Court, were so excellent, as it was impossible to imagine a more Spiritual Assembly, I having the honour to be there amongst the rest (which I shall always account, not only the most honourable, but the most delightful moment of my life;) it pleased her Highness to command me to write this Treatise of the Sports of Wit, which now I publish at the desire of some Ladies, whose least desire has the force of a command.   

Of the Original Of these Sports of Wit.  
WE read in Boccas, and other Italian Authors (to say nothing of the more Ancient) that these Sports began in Italy about the beginning of the Last Century, both at Florence, Sienna, and other places, especially at Ferrara, when those of the most Illustrious Family of d'Este, were Dukes thereof. From Italy Queen Catherine de Medicis carried them along with her into France, a Fertile Country; where all that is rare in Italy, transplanted, grows better and more flourishing then in its Native Soyl. From thence about the beginning of their Civil Wars, they were transplanted into England, where, by the culture of Sir Philip Sidney, Sir Foulk Grevill, and other the prime Wits and Gallants of the times, and Ladies no less inclined to Gallantry, they flourished as much as in Italy and France, not only all the time of Queen Elizabeth's Reign, but that of following Kings, till our Civil Wars likewise beginning here, they were not only neglected, but wholly irradicated by the Fanatic Rebels, Enemies of all Mirth and Recreation; till they begin to be Replanted, and take Root again under the happy Reign of His present Majesty.   

Of their ordering their Sports, and how they passed their time.  
FOr preparation to them some one, by lot, or otherwise, was chosen, for precedent, whose Office was to give out the Subject or Argument of the following Sport, and to distribute the parts for the next Assembly; that so betwixt premeditated and ex tempore, they might not come unto them wholly unprepared, but have the following night, and part of the following day, for their preparation. For the rest of the day, the time was thus distributed.  
Having finished their Morning Devotions, they went to dinner, and, having dined, each one retired to their several Cabinets, till towards Evening, when either they road abroad in their Coaches, to take the Air (which Promenade never ended without some Banquet or Collation) or walked out into the Garden, or adjoining Woo●, which seemed an Academy of Nightingales, is the Garden a Treasury of all Flora's choicest and rarest Flowers; when gather but one, and seven more sprang up in its place; whether it were th● Nature of the Soil, or Virtue of the Hand wh●●● gathered it, Heaven having so disposed this pleasant and delightful place, should never fall but into the fairest and vertuousest hands of the Universe, (it being a part of the Apinage or Inheritance of Madamoiselle de Beauvais.) From thence they went to Supper, and having supped, retired into a large Appartement, illuminated by six fair Crystal Branches, and bordered about with Silver Sconzaes', in which were enchased Concave Mirrors of Oval Form for better reflection of the Light. When the Duchess, seated in her Fautvil, under a Canopy, upon an half pace higher than the rest, with the Princesses, Her Daughter and Sister, under Taborets, on either side of Her; the sports began as followeth:  

The First Night's Sport  
Of ORACLES.  
THis sport 〈◊〉, when one amongst the rest stands for Oracle, and others in order ask Questions of it (the Duchess first, and the rest following) which the Oracle answers briefly in the Laconic stile: As for example.  
Quest. How should one do to be beloved?  
Answ. Love.  
Quest. Who is the fairest Lady?  
Answ. Every one's Mistress.  
And these Questions are easily answered, but the Oracle sometimes is hard put to't, when they ask it any captious & insiduous ones, as was his, who asked the Oracle, whither what he had in his hand were alive, or no; to which it answered, As you please, he grasping a little Sparrow in his hand, meaning if the Oracle said it was dead, to produce it alive, if alive, to crush it, and produce it dead: Which ambiguous answers and words of double sense, in such expedience, required great wit and dexterity in the Oracle; and at this our Oracle (Madamoiseille de Beauvais) was excellent.   

The Second Night's Sport  
Of DREAMS.  
THe sport of this is, when every one tells their Dreams, and some one Interprets them, who is not only to know the General Notions, (as how to dream of Pearl, signifies Tears, and Gold, Ill luck, etc.) But perfectly to understand the Art of Divination, and to have well read Artemedorus and Apamasar. Such as he, to whom a Lady coming once in great anxiety for her Lord, who was then actually in the Wars, saying, She dreamt the General was wounded in his right hand; he answered, The ill presage of that dream nothing concerned her Lord, who had a command of Horse; for the right hand of a General was his Foot, and the left his Horse, and the event proved this prediction true; for shortly after the news was brought (against the expectation of all) that Don Francisco de Melo had lost the Battle of Rocroy, most of his Infantry remaining, either slain or taken prisoners, whilst all the Cavalry escaped by flight. This made the Duchess think him fittest to be precedent of that night's sport, which (though far more difficult than that of the Oracle) he performed to the general satisfaction of all; where note, they may show as much wit, who ingenuously feign a Dream, as he who interprets it.   

The third Night's Sport  
Of LOTTERIES.  
ALL the Wit and Art of this Sport, is so to contrive the Lots in the Urn, as best may fit the qualities of every one. As to the Duchess all Happiness and Felicity; to the Princess, nothing but Crowns and Sceptres (then proposed as a match for Crowned-heads) and to Madamoseille De Beauvais, her choice of Princely-Husbands, married not long after to the Marquis of Varanbon; who dying without Heirs, left Her Inheritrix of his Marquisate, and since married to the Noble Prince of Aremberge: Nor were the rest of the Ladies less fitted with their Lots, the Contriver of the Lottery to please them, hazarding the reputation of a Liar twenty times, for that of a Prophet once: But all the Sport was to hear the inferior servants handsomely rallied for pastime of the Ladies. For example, Two waiting Women. (amongst the rest one who would needs lead Apes to Hell, and another, who would not go to Heaven without a Husband.) The Duchess prohibiting all picquant Raillery, which, if any offered, she declared a dislike of it in a blush, a greater reprehension, then could be expressed by words, to those who understand the Language of the Face.   

The Fourth Night's Sport  
Of WONDERS.  
THe Sport of this is, when every one tells what they most wonder at, or the greatest wonder they have seen; not such as Lying Travellers report, or such as they father upon our Countryman Sir John Mandevile; muchless such foulmouthed, slanderous ones, as his, who said, The greatest wonder he had seen, was, a Woman honest when she was young, and handsome when she was old; but such witty ingenuous ones, as that Ladies and Cavaliers, who saying, The greatest wonder he had seen, was a constant Lady; she answered again, That the greatest she had seen was a discreet Cavalier. All in the way of Gentile Raillery without stumbling or falling foul on the Picquant, and at that Gentile Raillery these Ladies were excellent, who went on inoffensively, without ever making a false pace on their way; nay, they went farther yet, and converting their Sports and Pastimes into Devotion, one said what she most wondered at, was, That any Noble Woman could be otherways then virtuous, when Virtue was only true Nobility; another, That she wondered their could be any Atheists in the World, when every thing put them in mind of a Divinity; and a third more divinely yet, That she wondered how any one could breathe or stir a foot, without thinking on him, in whom we live, move, and have our being.   

The Fifth Night's Sport of WISHES.  
THis amongst Gallants is one of their chiefest Sports; when striving who should wish somewhat most pleasing to their Mistress. One wishes himself Somnus, or the God of Sleep, to charm her senses into a sweet repose; another Morpheus, or the God of Dreams, to enter into her mind; and with some delightful dream insinuate the thought of himself amongst the rest: And a third wishing his Breast wholly transparent, that she might see through it, the pureness of his affection; with many such like Gallantries, but all in vain: For just as Water can be derived no higher than its Fountain head, so Earthly minds can think of nothing, but Earthly things, whilst these Ladies were so heavenly minded, as one wished herself a Bird of Paradise, to have no more communication with Earth; another soared higher yet, Wishing herself in Heaven; and the third, Wished herself an Angel there; and she only wanted Wings, having in an Angelical Body an Angelical Spirit too. And this, with more delight and cheerfulness than others wished for all the Treasures in the World, well knowing this World, in comparison with the other, was less than a drop of Water compared to the Ocean, or Grain of Dust, to the whole Globe of the Earth; but not to be thought to undervalue this World too much, by those who have but too magnificent a conceit of it. We will say no more, but past to the next Nights Sport.   

The Sixth Night's Sport  
Of GIPSIES.  
THe Sport of Gipsies was excellent well represented by Her Highness' servants, all properly habited with their Faces umbered over, supposed so many Doxies with their Solyman, who making their Entry in a Dance, fell to telling Fortunes, by Inspection of the Hand or Art of Chyromancy, as they pretended, though all their Art was to give such Fortunes as they imagined best pleasing to every one (like that Painter, when he could not make his Pictures like, made them Fair at least.) Giving young Maids good Husbands, Bachelors, rich Wives; and to every one long lives, and all prosperity; which the simple believed as Gospel, although as false as the Talmud or Koran. But this Sport differing only from that of Lotteries, in that, one is a dumb Fortune-Teller, and the other speaking ones; we will say no more of it, but only as they made their Entry, so they made their Exit in a Dance; after which, the rest made theirs too, and every one retired to their repose; and so they concluded the sixth Night's Sport, reserving the seventh day for their Devotions, if any thing could be added to the Devotions of the other days.   
The end of this Weeks Sports and Divertisements.    


Of the Mountebank and his Farce.  
WHilst they prepared for other Divertisements, that of the Mountebank and his Farce, was this Night's sport, performed by Her Highness' servants, as followeth.  
The Mountebank, with all formal gravity, mounting the Scaffold, made a long Oration of the marvellous Cures he had done, and of the rare and admirable Receipts he had; as if AEsculapius were but a Zany to him, whilst his Zany indeed, for greater sport, turned all to ridiculous that he said: As when he said, He had a Receipt to make them see as well by night as by day; the Zany answered, It was but putting out their eyes. And when he said he had another, That they should never die of old age; he answered again, It was but hanging them while they were young; with such like vulgar Buffonery to make the Audience laugh. All whichended in one of the best of Scarramuchio's, and Harlequin's acted by the Doctor and his Wife, the Zany with all his antic tricks, and others of his followers who truckled under them.   

The Eclogue or Acting of Questions.  
NOthing more declares a penetrating wit, which the French call Le point de l'esprit, then to enter into the depth of these Questions, nor a more perspicuous judgement, then to discern the nice and subtle Weights and Scales, required for determinating and deciding them; of which, I will only give you an example or two, and leave to others to furnish you with more.  
Q. 1. Which of these two Lovers best deserve the Nymph, he who often obliged her, and disobliged her as oft; or, he who had done neither, but only loved her? When after many Arguments on either side, it was finally concluded for the first against the second, because he had done somewhat, at least, to declare his love, but the other nothing; and love is best declared by Deeds they say, for Probatio amoris exibitio est operis.  
Q. 2. Which of those two Damsels lives the Knight should soon save, (in eminent danger of death) hers whom he loved, and she not him; or hers who loved him, and he not her? And it was determined for the second against the first; for she loved him, at least, but the other not: And for his love to the other, that no ways went on the account of of her desert.  
And now the Actors growing more numerous, a more particular Stage was requisite, which by the Painters and Carpenters skill was easily made   

The Pastoral of Love in his Infancy.  
THe Birthday of the Prince of Vaudemont, celebrated at Berseel, where he was born the year before, gave overture to the Theatre, and subject to this Pastoral, where he was introduced in his Cradle like a young Cupid, the Graces nursing him; the Sports playing about him, and Nymphs rejoicing to have a Cupid now, as well as Venus Urania, promising to themselves all pleasure in a love so harmless and innocent, never imagining what pain he would cost them, when he came to riper years: But that which most added to the solemnity of the day, was our triumvirate of Ladies personating the three Goddesses, Venus, Juno, and Pallas, in a solemn entry of Ballet, Dancing, and Singing about the Cradle: In which qualities they were all so excellent, as for Dancing, the Music of the Feet, and Singing, the Dancing of the Voice, they had few who equalled them, none who exceeded them. And for conclusion, by bearing the Cradle in triumph away, they gave end to the Night's Revels, and Days Solemnity.   

The Play of Love's Kingdom.  
IN imitation of this Pastoral, made after the same Model, and cast in the same Mould, the Play of Love's Kingdom was made, with design to render Love so virtuous, and Virtue so lovely, as all should be enamoured of it; which with much alteration, was after acted on the English Stage: But soon they found they took their measures wrong, for the Times were too vicious, and it too virtuous for them who looked on Virtue as a Reprehension, and not a Divertisement; and Love without Lust, was like Meat without Sauce to them whose Appetites were depraved with more vicious Food. So leaving the English Stage, it returned to Berseel again, where Virtue was always welcome; but for love one should as soon be drunk in a Crystal Fountain, as have the least vicious thought in so virtuous company.   

The Mask, or Opera in Music.  
THis Mask or Opera in Music, represented Latona with her two Children, Apollo and Diana, in the Floating Isle of Delos, incessantly tossed up and down, and exposed to all the storms of Fortune, with this Motto, Diu fluctibus agitata.  
The Hyadeses or Sea-Nymphs bewailing her sad condition; till the Scene changing, represented the Island fixed, and her with her Children in all tranquillity, the Word or Motto, Tandem Requiescit.  
The Dryads or Land-Nymphs rejoicing at her happy condition: The first alluding to her former state, without any certain habitation; the second by way of Prophecy, promising their restauration to their Country again; which, though Poets are said to be Poets and Prophets too, wants yet its wished success, Fortune still continuing to persecute her, and the Duke's unfortunate genius predominant still over her more fortunate one.   

The Play of Laura Persecutée.  
IN regard of which, Her Highness chose to act that excellent Tragicomedy of Laura Persecutée which She did so naturally, and to the life, as you might well perceive She acted Her own fortune under another's name; like that excellent Actor, who being to weep over the Urn of I know not whom, to do it the better, brought forth with him on the Stage, the Urn of his own dearly beloved Child, celebrating a feigned Funeral with Real Tears.  
Mean time, as nothing was wanting to the excellency of the Acting, so nothing was wanting to the completing the Theatre, but only a greater Audience, for a nobler it could not have; the Actors for the most part being Auditors and Spectators too; though sometimes the great Ladies, and chief Nobility, would come over from Brussels, to behold their sports, and went away unwillingly again, envying their happiness who still remained there.  
And now having mentioned the Duchess misfortune and persecution, I shall briefly declare the beginning, progress, and would I could the end of them.   

Of the Duchess' Marriage with the Duke of Lorraine.  
HEnry, Duke of Lorraine, dying without Issue-male, leaving only two Daughters, the Princess Nichole, and Princess Claude; the Father of Charles, now Duke, chief of the House of Vaudemont, by virtue of the Salic Law, succeeded him; who, better to confirm his Title, forced his Son, on pain of disinheriting, to marry the Princess Nichole (as his Brother had the Princess Claude) which he did at last with protestation of the force, and with all signs of aversion lived with her till his Father's death, when by mutual consent they parted; and not long after, he publicly married Beatrix de Cusance, the young Widow of the Prince of Cantecroix, a Lady of incomparable Beauty, and Birth, and Fortune, answerable every way, by whom he had issue Anne, now Princess of Lorraine, whose Legitimation none ever doubted of. In this Marriage they lived many years with great tranquillity, till a Storm was raised against them by the See of Rome, for Marrying without Dispensation, etc. by the suscitation of the Crown of France, who had espoused the Interest of Princess Nichole, as the Emperor had that of the Princess Claude. Which proceeded so far, as they were forced to separate on pain of Excommunication, till the cause might be decided by the Court of Rome, which the Nuntio, promised should be in a year, at least. This time expired and nothing done, the Duke following Pliny's Rule, Never in what you resolve to do, to ask Counsel of those who may hinder the doing it, went privately to the Duchess again, and begat the now Prince of Vaudemont; for which (when known) he was easily absolved, and so had been of all the rest, had he not neglected, for some Reasons of State, to sue out a Divorce from the Princess Nichole, so long as she was in state of bearing Children, not to set her at liberty to marry some Foreign Prince, whose Issue might dispute the Dukedom with the House of Vaudemont (the Law salic not being so clearly received in Lorraine, as it was in France.) This than was our Duchess misfortune, this her persecution, and this finally that Marriage which has caused so great rumour in the World, by those who know not how Marriages made by force, bind no longer than the force continues; whilst those made voluntarily, bind till death, nor by any humane force can ever be dissolved again.  
And now after this serious Digression, let us return to our Sports again.   

Of the Acting of Proverbs.  
THe next Night's sport, and that of many Nights after, was the Acting of Proverbs, a sport of so great variety, as you might often repeat it, and never twice the same again; where note, That as there are divers sorts of other sports, some which cause laughter without any Wit, others more studious than delightful as Riddles, Rebus', and Anagrams; or half witted Paradoxes, as, A Chandler can least hide his own knavery, for all his works must come to light. And, a Shoemaker would make the best Constable, for he can put any Man in the Stocks, and take him out at last. So there are divers sorts of this, some acting Proverbs in Dancing; others in dumb show and mimic gesture, and the like; which may be sports, but not sports of Wit, or but dumb wit at most; whereas, that of these Ladies, added words unto action: Of which, we shall give you an example or two, not doubting, but if the Ladies be delighted with it, there are wits enough to furnish them with more.  

PROV. It is merry when Friends meet.  
THe Scene was supposed an Inn where divers Friends met, as by chance, and recounted their several adventures on the way; some more dangerous, others more pleasant; every one making a several Novella, and all together a delightful Variety. Amongst the rest two persons arrived so disguised, that they seemed strangers both to themselves and all the rest, who recounting their adventures, were soon known to be a pair of Noble Lovers, who on the eve of their Nuptials, were severally made Captives by strange adventures; and by as strange, delivered from Captivity again, to their incredible joy, and little less of all the Company, as they declared by their Congratulations, Embracements; and all the signs of joy and gladness, which are usually shown on such occasions.  
Another, but in a more Spiritual kind, is that which followeth.   

PROV. No true Pleasure in this World.  
TO confirm this, they took for Argument that Moral Fable, how Jupiter, in the first Creation, sent Pleasure down from Heaven, for the consolation of poor Mortals here on Earth; of whom, they soon became so great Idolaters, that they offered more Sacrifice to it, then to all the Gods besides. At which, the Gods offended, recalled Pleasure back to Heaven again, who ascending, threw off its Earthly Garment; which Dolon or Deceit finding, put on, and ever since hath passed for it; Men foolishly adoring as much the shadow of Pleasure now, as they did the substance of it before. When Jove, pitying they should be so deceived, sent Mercury down to undeceive them, and discover the Imposture and Deceit. But soon he found his Embassy was in vain, and that all his eloquence was lost upon them, who would not believe, though a God did tell them so, That there was any other Pleasure, but what they had. When Jove seeing he must create the World and Men anew, to make them better and wiser, resolved for their punishment, to leave them to the pleasure of Beasts, who would not have that of Angels, though they might.    

The Conclusion.  
ANd now I cannot better conclude this Treatise, then by giving you a short Character of the Ladies, chiefly mentioned in it; (and to say nothing of the Princess, who was yet so young, as she only promised to be what her Mother was, and no doubt, but in time, she will make good her promises.) The Duchess was one of the greatest Beauties of the times, and her Sister no less; but in a different kind, the one Fair, the other Brown; the one clear Sunshine, the other a Delightful-shade; and as their Beauties, so their dispositions were alike; the Duchess with all becoming freedom of one that was married, her Sister not so free, as one not married yet. The first all gay and cheerful, the second not so gay, but with a cheerfulness as far above light Mirth and Laughter, as Elemental Fire above Squibs and Crackers: For the rest, they were both so far from Pride, as nothing could be more humble, yet so majestical, as they appeared the higher by their Humility; and were in all so equal, as together, you knew not which to prefer; asunder, you always preferred the present to the absent, till she returning, set the balance even again. In fine, not to enter so far into their praises, as never to get out again; in their presence, you were so ravished and transported, as you would as soon be weary of Heaven, as of their Company; and it was a species of the Beatitude, of the other Life, only to enjoy their conversation in this.   

A List of some of their Proverbs.  
PRoverbs must have the stamp of Custom, to make them currant with the World; but every one for their private use may coin what ones they please, as are these following.  

Who spends all his life in getting maintenance for it, is like him who sold his horse to get him Provender.  
Death and Absence differ only in this, That Absence is but a short Death; and Death a long Absence.  
Who gives soon, redoubles the benefit; and he that is long a giving, diminishes it as much.  
Vice and Vanity differ only in this, that Vice lays the Egg, and Vanity hatches the Chicken.  
An uncertain Nature, is like a Sea with shifting Sands, where thereiss no Sailing without a Plummet in hand; or like a Weapon loose in the Hilt, there is no using of it with any confidence.  
Distracted Prayers are like Penelope's Web, always to begin anew, and never ended.  
Without a little dispute, one can never enter into discourse; and with too much, one can never get out again. 
* The Rule is never to pass the third Reply.   
Who takes every acquaintance for a Friend, is like him who takes every Pibble Stone for a Diamond.  
A Friend is a Cabinet-piece, to be sought all the World over, whilst we find acquaintances▪ in every street.  
The greatest Wisdom, is to know how much Thought▪ we are to give to every thing,  
Who cheaply sells another's Fame, makes but the Market to buy his own.  
Noble Women are like Sacred Relics: 
Beheld with reverence, but let Men come  
To touch them once, their reverence is gone.   
Men were never more easily Cannonised then now;  
When he may be counted a Saint, who is not altogether a sinner.  
Who thinks to help the truth with a lie, is like him who helping his Master on Horseback, threw him quite over on the other side.  
Innocence were an excellent jewel, if it were not so easily counterfeited, and so hard to know the true from the false.  
Every one flatters Fortunate Princes, but only hope flatters the Unfortunate.  
The faults of Princes, are like sore eyes, made worse with handling.  
Of all Devils, bless us from those who play the Devil for God's sake.  
God help you is only an alms for those that sneeze.  
To injure one, and then ask him pardon, is a Bastonado with a Courtesy.  
Many cry, A merry life, and a short; who, if they knew how short it were, would not be so merry as they are.  
It is a good World for the Devil, when every one speaks ill of one another, and no body speaks ill of him.  
Your Conscience-mongers have a dangerous trade of it, who go so far to keep others from falling into Hell, as they often fall into't themselves.  
A generous Nature more esteems an ounce of Honour, than a pound of Profit.  
Fair looks often deceive us; as Brass guilt, looks fairer than Gold itself.  
He who cut off all who were too long for his Iron Bed, and racked out all who were too short, was a less Tyrant than they who would force every one to their opinions.  
Love without Fear is childish, and Fear without Love is slavish; both together make the best composition.  
Whilst sickness is but a dying life, or living death; none truly live, but those who are in health.  
Men may force our actions, and awe our words; but none can force, or awe our thoughts.  
A Complementer, or, as the French say, a accomplé menteur, is the Rack of conversation, that sets every one's joints a stretching where he comes.  
Truth goes the nighest way, whilst falsehood goes always the furthest way about.  
The vulgar are judges without judgement, and Authors without authority.  
In Women the first thoughts are the best, but in Men the second.  
Youth invents better, but Age perfects the Invention.  
Wit is ripe, when grown to Wisdom, and Wisdom rotten, when grown to Craft.  
The Dignity of Obedience is lost, when we dispute what is commanded.  
Every one is artificer of their own Fortune, but Fortune like Mercury is not made of every Wood  
The Wise spare their words, the witty spends them; but the Fool casts them away.  
Who wears French clothes, without French behaviour, look just like Dogs in Doublets.  
jealous States hold one another like Wolveses by the Ears, and only fear keep them from hostility.  
Who foolishly imitates, is like that Ass; who cutting off his Ears, to become more like a Horse; became neither good Horse, nor Ass neither.  
Honesty has almost lost its English signification, and signifies, as with the French, only Courtly behaviour.  
The more Danger, the more Honour; but the less Danger, the more Prudence.  
When Wise wonder at nothing, the Fool at every thing.  
Who counts the World an Inn, and not their Home, make no great difficulty of leaving it.  
Better Religion in the lump, than Wyer drawn, as it is, and in the whole piece, then minced into so many Sects.  
The manner of giving more than the gift endears the benefit; and some oblige more in denying, than others do in granting.  
We are all but sucking Children of this World, and have need of Wormwood, to wean us from it.  
As North and South, which differ only by an Individual Line, may be made the whole Heavens distant, by going to the extremity of either Pole; so Modern Controvertists, etc.  
Who believe well, and live ill, or live well, and believe ill, are culpable alike.  
Pleasure is as it is fancied; and a Beggar takes as much in scratching, as greatest Princes in what they fancy most.  
Education is double refined Nature, and the Soul of the Soul, as the other is but the Soul of the Body.  
Spiritual and Corporal Physicians, make their Medicaments too bitter, if they would sweeten them a little, they would have far more Patients and Proselytes.  
There is as small choice in— as in rotten Apples; none better than the other, and you know not which is the worst.  
Pleasure in Excess, is like a Boor when they are drilling him: A question, whether the pleasure or pain be more.  
Who have deceived you, bid them good morrow, and good d'en; but for the rest of the day have no more to do with them.  
The way of doing things now is, first, I'll warrant you, and then who would have thought it, Reputes when it is too late.  
Promises without Performance, give the lie unto themselves.  
A little Pride well becomes great Ladies, and begets Reverence, but too much is only for petty Persons, and makes them but less esteemed.  
Though the World be foul and dirty, yet they may walk clean enough, who but carefully pick out their way; but who runmadly, dash, dash, seem neither to care how they bespatter others, and defile themselves.  
It is easy to throw one's self into a Precipice, but not easy to get out again.  
Our Bodies being but the Chariot of our Souls, wherein we run the race of this mortal life; serves but for little when the race is run, and we arrived to immortality, but only as a Trophy of our Victory.  
Wit without Discretion to manage it, is but a wild unruly Colt, that instead of carrying us a gentle pace, oft runs away, and breaks the Rider's Neck.  
Who never consider the end for which they were created, live not the lives of Rational Creatures; but rather of Sensual Animals, who only eat and drink and sleep.  
We being to go to the other World, when we have passed through this, How can we hope to find the way thither, and to be welcome when we come; when we never inquire after it, nor after those who are there?  
It is a happy misfortune to be driven by storm the sooner to their Port.  
Sensual persons are as unfit to judge of Spiritual things, as the Blind of colours, or the Deaf of sounds.  
Pleasures are like poisonous Baits which catch Fish sooner; but render them nothing worth when they are caught.  
It is to hedge in the Cuckoo, to seek to make a Maid honest against her will.  
An indiscreet person gets more enemies by telling truth, than others do by lying.  
Under Officers care for no body in Court, and out of Court, no Body cares for them.  
Who knows what it is to marry, would be as long in choosing a— as Scogan was a Tree to be hanged on.  
Who seeks to be more feared then loved, shall find themselves more hated, then feared at last.  
Who seeks his own interest, and nothing else, is no more a part of the Universe, than a loose Stone in the Wall, a part of the House or Building.  
Detractors and Calumniators, as Clippers and False Coiners, are punishable alike.  
To honour any Man for riches only, is to worship the Golden Calf.  
Money is like muck, which spread abroad, doth good; but hoarded and heaped up, is like a stinking Dunghill.  
While every one wants something, he is happy that can live on little, because he can never want much.  
Every one hath somewhat of a Fool, and he is wisest who has least.  
The Itch of Lascivious Love, being the Scab of Poetry; he is the best Poet, who scratches it the least.   
These, and many more, they had, as far from Vulgar Spirited, as were those who invented, and those who acted them; nor was it fit, persons, of their condition, should go to the frippery for old Proverbs, when they might have new when ever they pleased.   

The EPITAPH OF Beatrix, Duchess of Lorraine, who died, An. 1662.  
SHe who alive, all Virtue and Beauty was,  
Th'one in Her Breast, and th'other in Her Face.  
Now that She's dead, just reason w'have to fear,  
All Virtue and Beauty too, are dead with Her.   
FINIS.   

ADDITIONAL EPIGRAMS of the Year 1674.  

Of our English Gallants lives, or the French disease.  
WOnder! our Gallants ne'er consider how  
They wast their lives, with living as they do,  
While just like Tapers, they at both ends light,  
'Twixt Wine & Women they're consumed quite.  
Amongst the rest the French disease is that  
Which most consumes their Persons and Estate.  
From which there's scarcely any one that's free,  
Who but pretends to modern gallantry.  
Nor may we wonder 'tis so easily gotten,  
When almost all their Wenches now are rotten.  
By whatsoever Name or Title known,  
From those wear Vizard-Masks, to those wear none.  
Mean time I can't but pity their condition,  
Who stand in need of Surgeon or Physician.  
Who with their Galen and Hypocrates  
But make the Cure as bad as the disease.  
And this is that (thanks to their Wenches for't)  
Our Gallants call a merry life and short.  
While they're not only infected with the Fashions,  
But the diseases too of other Nations.   

To a Lady who was offended with him for praising Visdamera.  
I See you envy Visdamera's praise,  
For excellent parts and qualities she has.  
Whilst other parts and qualities y'have none,  
But bare and simple honesty alone.  
That's but a Cipher, Nothing, less ye add  
Some Virtue to't, by which 'tis Somewhat made.  
Or like a single Unite at the best,  
That but foundation is of all the rest.  
Mean time I can't, but wonder how it came  
To Honour's title, and to Virtue's name.  
When Honour and Virtue in it, there is none  
But only in Imagination.  
Cease then in vain, your Honesty to boast,  
That's but a Negative Virtue at the most.  
And like the Quakers Spirit seen by none,  
But we must take your word for it alone.  
And know, if't make you proud, 'tis better be  
The Publican, than the proud Pharisee;  
Who whilst they think th'ave privilege to condemn  
And judge all others who'd not like to them:  
Like such as you, in fine, do nothing else  
(Whilst they judge others) but condemn themselves.   

Good wishes to a new married Pair.  

IF joy does from enjoying take its name,  
And happiness be said to be the same;  
How happy are this newly married Pair,  
Who now arrived unto enjoyment are?  
To whom whilst every friend some present brings,  
Good wishes only are my offerings.  
Which though they seem but offerings of the poor,  
Angels from Heaven do often bring no more.  
May he and she live long and happy than  
Envy of Women she, and he of Men.  
The pattern of all happy Husbands he,  
And of all happy Wives, the mirror she.  
Enjoying all the Blessings whilst they live,  
That Fortune and Felicity can give;  
And like Elias when they die, so blest,  
To be translated only unto rest.   

This and all other happiness beside,  
I wish the Noble Bridegroom, and the Bride,    

To the Countess of Shrewsbury, a pious reflection on God's goodness.  
HOw good is God whose love of us transcends  
All that of Parents, or of dearest Friends;  
Nor that of Spouse to Spouse could ere express  
So great a love, so dear a tenderness.  
He knows our weakness and infirmities,  
And when we fall, helps us again to rise.  
And when h'as lost us, seeks us all about;  
Nor ever rests until he finds us out.  
When he's so far from chiding us, he's more  
Indulgent to us, than he was before:  
So as without presumption we may boast,  
We had been lost, unless we had been lost.  
And all this Madam, y'are experienced now,  
In God's dear love, and tender care of you.  
Who'd then be so ungrateful to offend,  
So dear a Spouse, a Parent, and a Friend?  
Rather who'd not endeavour all they could  
To please so great a Lord, so good a God?   

Woolsey's complaint Paraphrased.  
Banished, and so well known, where ere he went,  
He scarce could find a place for banishment!  
As on his way he sorrowfully passed,  
Coming to Leicester Abbey at the last:  
Oppressed with weight of grief, as well as years,  
Woolsey to the Abbot said with many tears.  
Behold, a poor old Man (Lord Abbot) I  
Am hither come in Banishment to die.  
Who this may truly say, That, had I been  
As careful to serve God, as serve my King.  
For all my care, and all my service past,  
I'd ne'er been thus rewarded at the last.  
Let all ambitious Men learn then by this,  
How to serve God, highest Ambition is.  
And none in serving Kings, comply so far,  
As to forget how they Gods servants are;  
For Kings and Princes are above Men 'tis true,  
But God's above both Kings and Princes too.  
And who serve others, are but slavish things;  
But 'tis to Reign, to serve the King of Kings.   

On the Death of an only Son, and his Mother's grief.  
HEr only Son was dead, and such a Son,  
As never yet was a more hopeful one.  
When his sad Mother, (Mother now no more)  
Did not, the common way his death deplore;  
Nor would the common way be comforted,  
Of other Mothers when their Sons were dead;  
But does so piously his loss deplore,  
She shows she loved him well, but loves Heaven more:  
And, knowing 'twas the Will of Heaven, does bear  
It so, she needs no other Comforter.  
So th'Royal Prophet, when his Son was dead,  
Like her ceased mourning, and was comforted.  
And t'other in as great a loss could say,  
'Twas Heaven that gave, and Heaven that took away.  
These of all Fathers may examples be,  
But of all pious Mothers, only she.   

The Adieu.  
NOthing but Storms and Tempests? then 'tis time  
To seek for shelter in some Foreign Clime,  
Where I may hope to find the happiness,  
If not to live, at least to die in peace.  
What Halcyon on such Seas would build its Nest,  
Where for continual storms it ne'er could rest?  
Or Bird would choose in such a Land to sing,  
Where it may ne'er enjoy a quiet Spring?  
When Winter comes, y'have certain Birds which fly  
To Foreign parts, one of those Birds am I.  
Who joy to sing in Sunshine, but give over  
When I like them can see the Sun no more.  
And banished as I am the sight, o'th' Sun  
'Tis time to go, my singing days are done.  
Mean while before my life be wholly past  
And like the dying Swan, I have sung my last,  
Whilst others ask His Majesty, to give  
'Em means sufficient handsomely to live.  
All I desire is, that His Majesty  
Would give me means but handsomely to die.  R. F.  

The Anagram.  
WALLER Anag. LAUREL  
Laurel and Waller so agree,  
And Individuals seem to be;  
As look but on the Anagram,  
You'll find it in his very name.   
The end of this Quaternium.   


ON HIS MAJESTY'S Military Sports at Windsor.  

AS artificial Fireworks and Light;  
Are best beheld i'th' darkness of the Night.  
The Moon was set, no Stars i'th' Skies did shine,  
But all was dark, as favouring their design.  
When strait behold, in Military sport  
How some assail, others defend the Fort.  
Brave York & Monmouth lead their warlike Bands,  
Whilst Royal Charles a glad Spectator stands,  
To see'm shoot, and no Man harmed by't,  
Nor any hurt or wounded in the Fight:  
So, as if any, has the Charm, 'tis He  
To render People Shot and Weapon free.  
Who does not bless the while His happy Reign?  
Who does us in this Peaceful State maintain,  
Whilst others plundered, harras'd, ruined, are  
Exposed to all calamities of War,  
As we were heretofore; and but for him  
Should be exposed unto the like again.  
Happy, thrice happy in Him then, if we  
But only our own happiness could see.   

Of all the Kings that are, or ever were,  
A Prince the most benign and debonair.    

Of Reformation.  
THis Reformation has a specious name,  
But yet the World will always be the same.  
And those who try, will see when all is done,  
'Tis easier finding fault's then mending 'em.  
Mean time there's no Men, who are more unfit,  
Then th'people are, for the Reforming it;  
Whose tampering with't, has always had this curse,  
Instead of mending things, to make them worse.  
They see perhaps somewhat might mended be,  
But hundred things they'd mar by't, do not see,  
Best way to mend 'em were, for every one  
To mend themselves, and let the rest alone.  
The World and Men are chiefly governed by,  
That Golden Chain depending from on high,  
Links Men to God, and Subjects unto Kings,  
With like dependence of all other things.  
And when their Subjects chance to break this chain,  
Kings are to look to make it whole again.  
Unto whose charge Heaven chiefly does commit,  
The Government of the World, and care of it.  
The World will ne'er be better a this fashion,  
When th'people undertake this Reformation.  
Who, as by clear experience we see,  
Are chiefly those who should reform be;  
And cry the Worlds not well, for nothing else,  
But only 'cause they are not well themselves.   

Necessity excused.  

I Would not be so dull a thing as I  
Should be, if 't were not for necessity.  
Mother of Arts, Invention and of Wit,  
Th're then injurious should speak ill of it.  
We often blame necessity, when we  
Are more in fault then is necessity.  
Which sometimes may persuade, but near enforces  
Any to take dishonourable courses,  
Against her will, a Woman may be poor,  
But none against her will, can be a Whore.  
Nor Man a Knave, whether he will or no;  
But 'tis his own dishonesty makes him so.  
Cease then to blame and lay the fault (in fine)  
Upon Necessity, which is chiefly thine.   

There's no Necessity to do that which we  
Should never do for no Necessity.    

Of Marriage and Mistresses.  
THe Marriage Knot which use to bind so fast,  
Its bonds and ties as long as life did last,  
Is now become like jugglers' Knots, none knows  
They re tied so slack, whether they're fast or loose,  
(What Man say they) who loves his liberty,  
To any Woman so much slave would be:  
This to their Wives, but to their Mistresses,  
They care not how they lose their Liberties.  
To whom by th' Scriveners help they're bound so fast,  
They're Bonds at least as long as life do last.  
And th' Marriage Bonds they break with ease, but they  
Can't break the Scrivener's Bonds so easily.  
So Dalilah held Samson in her Bands,  
Until he fell into th' Philistians hands;  
Where he in Prison all his life did lie:  
This is the end of such men's Liberty.  
And they no better end deserve then this,  
Who leave their Wives, to follow Mistresses.   

A Riddling description of a Lady, who shall be nameless.  

THis Lady has one of those dull handsome faces  
Which never sacrificed unto the Graces.  
And Person, with as little gracefulness  
As has her motley face, if not with less.  
A thing made up in haste, all in a bundle,  
Just like a Bowl as round as she can trundle.  
Her Bum the bias, whence you'd easily guests,  
She's naturally inclined to idleness.  
And her becoming'st posture may be said,  
Or riding in a Coach, or lying a Bed.  
As for her other parts, I'll say no more,  
But only she's, nor scold, nor slut, nor whore.  
And this in any Woman is enough  
To make a Wife, though not a Mistress of.   

Who this is now, for me shall ne'er be known,  
Unless she name herself, for I name none.  
And of this size so many Ladies be,  
None can unriddle, or till which is she.    

Love and Death's exchanging Darts, or the Dying Lover.  
LOve and Death o'th' way once meeting,  
Having past a friendly greeting.  
Sleep their weary eyelids closing,  
Lay them down, themselves reposing.  
Love, whom divers cares molested,  
Could not sleep, but while Death rested.  
All in haste away he posts him,  
But his haste full dearly costs him.  
For it chanced that going to sleeping,  
They had given their Darts in keeping  
Unto Night, who Errors Mother,  
Blindly knowing not one from tother.  
Gave Love DeathsDeaths, and ne'er perceived it,  
Whilst as blindly Love received it.  
Since which time their Darts confounding,  
Love now kills, instead of wounding.  
Death our hearts with sweetness filling,  
Gently wounds instead of killing.   

To the Duchess of Portsmouth, on his Epigram of the Angelical Beauty. (Pag. 19)  
Madam,  
YOu being all admirable as you are,  
No wonder at first, I never could declare,  
But only in silence as admirers do,  
The admiration which I had for you.  
Until 'twixt speech and silence without name,  
I writ at last that tassid epigram,  
Of th' Angelical Beauty, meaning you,  
Although I never named you until now.  
When unto all the World I here declare,  
You only that Angelical Beauty are.  
And now if any at this offended are,  
To spite 'em more, I once again declare.  
The Angelical Beauty is not only you,  
But th' Angelical Disposition too.   

The Remembrance or the Petition Renewed.  
WHo in the late Duchess of Lorrains days,  
To all their mirth, so instrumental was  
His Majesty never danced, nor Duchess sung;  
But he with's Lute or Viol. still was one.  
Counting it highest honour could befall  
To delight them, who'd the delight of all.  
Now aged grown, does in some hermitage,  
Desire to end the remnant of his age.  
And that His Majesty for Viaticum,  
Would favour his retreat with some small Sum:  
Who never asked him any thing before,  
Nor after this shall never ask him more.  
But be His Beadsman all the rest of's days,  
Who then His Poet and Musician was.   

The Dilemma.  
IF what I write does please, I hope (in short)  
His Majesty will give me somewhat for't.  
If not, I hope, (as Caesar did before)  
He'll give me somewhat for to write no more.   
The end of this Quaternium.   


To LILY on his excellent Painting.  
HOw I admire thee Lily, and thy Art,  
That to dead Figures doth such life impart?  
Nature and thee do seem at gentle strife,  
Whose Figures should be most unto the Life;  
Only as in some other World they were,  
They do not live such lives as we do here:  
But rather such as deathless shadows do  
I'th' blessed Elysium fields and shades below.  
So like to ours, as it may well be said,  
The dead are living, and the living dead.  
As out of Chaos, all the World was made,  
When first it neither Form nor Figure had:  
So out of Chaos, of thy Colours thou  
Dost make whole Worlds of beauteous figures now.  
To see and to admire the work thoust done,  
Whilst all the World unto thy house dost come.  
Who would not think thee by so great resort,  
The King of Painters, and thy House the Court.   

On Peoples Talk.  
A Dialogue betwixt Vizdamira, and the Author.  A. 
THat I defend you where soever I come,  
From every slanderous and malicious tongue,  
Is but an Act of justice which I owe  
Unto the Truth, as well as unto you.  
What should I do?  V. 
Why do like me, contemn  
Their base malicious talk and pity them,  
Who only bark like Dogs of Villages.  
And when they are contemned will hold their peace.  A. 
Ah never! such as they will ne'er give o'er,  
But more they are contemned, do bark the more.  V. 
Then let 'em vent their malice as they do.  
It does not trouble me, why should it you.  A. 
Pardon me, when I hear 'em speaking ill  
Of those, I love, I must defend 'em still.  V. 
I thank your love, but yet my chief defence,  
Against slanderous tongues, must be my innocence.  
To live well, is in power of every one,  
But hinder people's talk in power of none.   

Against Idleness.  

To the Lady Kilmurry, sitting at work with other Ladies.  
Blessed be the hands, and blest be they who taught  
This work at first, which now these hands have wrought  
So Rainbow coloured, as Thomantias Bow  
Could never more Celestial colour show.  
Work is the Life, and Idleness the Death,  
Of every one who lives by vital breath.  
Live Ladies then, and by your work declare,  
You only, of all others, living are:  
Whilst others can no testimony give,  
More than the dead, that ever they did live.  
And live till for the work on Earth y'have done,  
You be rewarded when to Heaven you come,  
With Crowns of Glory, and for robes may wear,  
As glorious ones of your own working here.  
Happy, the whilst, who live and work like you,  
Both in this World, and in the other too.   

To the Lady Elizabeth Gage.  
Madam,  
I Will not say y'are so surpassing fair,  
As none with you for beauty may compare.  
Nor that all others, for pure flesh and blood,  
Compared to you, seem only Painted Mud.  
For this of every Lady may be said,  
Whose BeautiesBeauties but a little white and red.  
Although of none more truly then of you,  
Whose colours are no Painted ones, but true;  
But I will praise you in a higher kind,  
For virtue, and for beauty of your mind.  
And say, the outside and the inside too,  
Never agreed in any, more than you.  
Continue Madam then, but as you are,  
As excellently good, as you are fair.  
We well may say, your beauty and virtue's such,  
As none can praise, none can admire too much.  
And this, when others beauties fade and die,  
Is that shall live and last eternally.    

Prologue for most of our Modern Plays.  
YOu'd have new Plays, and when you have'em you  
Do by 'em as Children by their Puppets do.  
Tear 'em and mangle 'em straight, then cry for more,  
And use 'em just as you did those before.  
And, reason of this is now, if truth were known,  
You are not curious, but fastidious grown:  
Nor is it judgement in you, but disease,  
That no new Plays, though ne'er so good, can please.  
And this is all, thanks and reward he has,  
Gives Children Puppets, and who gives you Plays.  
And now they serve you in your kind you see,  
For most o'th' Plays are only Puppetry.  
And you as unto Puppet-Plays do go,  
Not for to hear the wit, but see the show:  
The curious Painted Scenes, which Wit you call  
With Cheapside-Pageantry, and that is all.   

On the Lady Rs, Nursing her own Children.  

HOw like to Charity, this Lady stands?  
With one child sucking, t'other in her hands.  
Whilst Bounteous Nature, Mother of us all,  
Of her fair Breasts, is not more liberal.  
Those Ladies, but Half-mothers', are at best,  
Who while they give their Wombs, deny their Breast.  
And none but such true Mothers we may call,  
Who give, like you, their Wombs and Breasts, and all.  
Mirror of Mothers? in whom all may see,  
By what you are, what others ought to be,  
Ready like Pelican's for children's good,  
To give their very lives, and vital blood:  
For so do you, if Milk be Blood (though white)  
Who show yourself great strafford's Daughter right;  
Both alike ready for the public good,  
You for to give your Milk, and he his Blood.   

What must the Children be the while, that come  
From such a Pious Breast, and Noble Womb.    

To the Duchess of Monmouth.  
With his Play of the Noble, Fair, and Virtuous EMILIA.  
Madam,  

WHen Poets would a Heroina make,  
Does all perfections of her Sex partake,  
They make her Noble, Fair, and Virtuous too:  
All which perfections Madam are in you.   

Emilia then is but a feigned name,  
And you are only really the same;  
Or if their's any difference, this is all,  
She's but the Copy, you th' Original.   

To whom then should I dedicate my Play,  
O'th' Noble, Virtuous, Fair Emilia.  
But to your Grace, who is without compare,  
More Noble yet, more Virtuous and Fair.    

Why I Write.  

WHilst some do write for profit, some for praise,  
And every one some end in writing has:  
I only write to please my noble Friends,  
And when I've done but that, I have my ends.  
For th'vulgar I so much their praises slight,  
I would not have their favour, though I might;  
Because, I know, none ever had it yet,  
But only such who viciously have writ.  
And now if any think this cowardice,  
To fly their praises, as I do their vice.  
I must confess, he's valianter than I,  
Who dares be damned for writing viciously.   

He's vicious enough, does evil do;  
But double vicious, does and writes it too.    
The end of the Quaternium.